Let's Just Wing It
by Aleisha Potter
Summary: Spoilers for 7.17. Written for @HarmonyHelms.  Dean and Cas's reunion as we believe it should happen.  wing!kink!


**A/N: I wrote this in all of about 45min-1hr. I told HarmonyHelms that if she finished her homework (rather than tool around on Twitter and Tumblr hehe) that I would write her a fic, anything she wanted... this is what she wanted to go on Twitter and thank her. It's what friends do for each other, you know, help them keep from flunking out of college because they are obsessed with Destiel. No, seriously, this was fun. Warning: 7.17 spoilers ahead! They're not super obvious, and I made them mean what I knew HarmonyHelms would want them to mean, but... they ARE there, so be warned.**

**Let's Just Wing It**

Dean stood behind where Cas knelt on the sodden ground. Their mad dash from the hospital had left a nearly powerless Cas winded and worn. The angel gasped on the ground, trying to catch his breath while Dean glanced around the clearing they were in, looking for any sign of the demons that had chased them from hospital.

It looked like all was clear so Dean stowed his gun away and crept closer to the now trembling man in front of him. He crouched down and laid a calm hand on Cas's shoulder, though inside he was far from calm.

"You okay?" he asked.

Cas shook his head as he gasped for another breath.

"Your memories? Are they all back?" Dean asked.

Cas glanced up at him, raindrops still clinging to his eyelashes even though the drizzle had stopped for now. Dean stared into Cas's oh-so-familiar blue eyes, eyes he thought were long gone, that he'd never see again.

"I think they've all returned. Crowley kept his word," Cas replied, voice low and gravely as always, sending a shiver up Dean's spine. God it was good to hear that voice again.

Dean gripped the scrub top he'd found Cas in and pulled the other man to him, wrapping his arms around Cas and squeezing, swearing he wasn't letting go this time. He wasn't losing him again.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I..."

"Shut up, Cas. I forgave you a long time ago, you crazy son of a bitch," Dean muttered into wet, dark hair. He felt Cas tremble in his arms as two arms came up and settled around him, hugging him back.

Dean pulled back but left his arms around Cas.

"I thought you were gone. Fuck, Cas, don't ever do that again!" Dean ordered then leaned forward and pressed his lips to Cas's in a clumsy kiss. Cas kissed back just as clumsily, if not more so for his lack of experience. Dean let his tongue slip out to run across the crease of the other man's lips. When Cas hesitantly parted his lips, Dean slipped in, hungrily exploring every hot depth.

Cas let out a feeble moan and leaned heavily against Dean. Dean carefully helped Cas to lay back on the wet ground, letting his body cover the other man, offering what warmth he could. Cas shivered against him, but Dean didn't know if it was from being chilled or from pleasure.

"Cold?" he asked, pulling back from Cas's lips just long enough to form the question. Cas caught his lips in another kiss before answering.

"No. Burning up."

Dean grasped the bottom hem of the scrub top and pulled it up. Pale, flawless skin covered a chest he knew once carried the angel banishing sigil. He must have been healed when he was brought back after they threw Lucifer back into hell. He lost his mark at the same time Dean lost his.

"How much of your grace is left?" he asked.

"Enough. It will come back. It will just take time. The poison Meg kept in me will need time to dissipate."

"Good."

Dean leaned down, pressing his lips to Cas's once more, drawing out the kiss as he fumbled with his own shirt, recklessly unbuttoning the over shirt and flinging it down onto the ground. He pulled out of the kiss and pulled Cas up enough to push him over to lay on the discarded flannel shirt. He grabbed the bottom of his under shirt and pulled it off as well, leaving only his jeans on. He stared down at Cas where he lay beneath him. His mind flashed through the numerous times he'd looked upon that face, stared into those eyes. He remembered the first time he saw Cas, memories of flashes of light, of shadowed wings.

"Can you show me?" he blurted out without thinking.

Cas's brow furrowed.

"Show you what?" he asked.

"Your wings. Can you show them to me?" he reiterated, feeling slightly embarrassed for asking, expecting Cas to refuse. But he didn't. Cas slowly nodded his head then closed his eyes.

Dean's breath caught in his throat as two magnificent, pearly colored wings unfurled from behind Cas. He didn't know why he was expecting some dark color, other than the fact that the closest he'd ever come to seeing them had been the dark shadow in the barn. When they had completely opened, they lay lightly across the wet earth, a good six feet on either side of Cas. The feathers look soft, like silk, rather than downy like a birds. They shimmered in the late afternoon sun. Dean was mesmerized. He had to remind himself to breath.

"You can touch them," Cas offered quietly. Dean reached forward and ran his fingers across the left wing, starting at the top and trailing down. Cas gasped, his back arching off the ground. It was a beautiful sight. Dean buried his fingers in the soft feathers, which caused Cas to moan his name. Dean leaned over and kissed Cas, pouring all his feelings, all the things he couldn't bring himself to say into his kiss.

He gently pulled back after what felt like a lifetime and whispered his next request against Cas's lips.

"My mark. When you healed me, it was gone. Can you put it back?" He felt a cold hand slide up his arm to rest on his shoulder, then a searing pain shot from shoulder to wrist. When Cas pulled his hand back, Dean glanced down and smiled in relief when the familiar red hand print rested on his shoulder once again. He looked back at Cas and paused when he caught the angel's expression. Pure love and bliss shone from Cas's face, calling to Dean as nothing ever had.

"Fuck," he muttered, knowing he was in way too deep now to ever crawl out. Cas slid the hand that he'd used to burn the mark into Dean around Dean's neck and pulled him back down, initiating the kiss this time. Dean had no problem following Cas's lead. He let his hand dig deeper into the silky feathers, tugging gently and marveling in the noises Cas made each time. Dean rolled his hips down against Cas's, not surprised to find the angel hard inside the scrub pants. Using the hand not currently buried in feathers, Dean loosened the drawstring on Cas's pants and the button and zip on his own jeans.

He made short work of pulling both his cock and Cas's out and wrapped his hand around both. Cas hissed and rolled his hips up into Dean's grip. Dean explored Cas's mouth again, determined to memorize ever dip and valley with his tongue while he stroked both of them together. His other hand kept up the gentle tugs and calm strokes on his wings.

Cas was quivering underneath him, moans slipping out whenever Dean would pull back slightly to get a breath. He thought the angel was close, knew he was. Dean let his hand drift closer to Cas's back, closer to where the wing met back and Cas keened. He sped up his strokes on their dicks as he found a sensitive spot right near the wing joint. He smoothly stroked that spot as he stroked them ever closer.

Cas lost it first, back arching as he called out Dean's name, his voice resonating with an otherworldly sound, a hint of his true voice coming throgh. Dean wasn't very far behind, his orgasm jumping through him and pulsing out. He felt his new mark throb as he came, a tangible reminder of the profound bond he and Cas shared.

Both men lay there, in the middle of a clearing in the woods outside a mental hospital, shirts gone and pants undone. It was probably a very odd sight, but Dean didn't give a shit. They were far enough out that no one was going to stumble upon them. Sometime during their rumble in the dirt, the rain had started up again. Cold drops landed on Dean's overheated back. He carefully rolled off Cas to lay beside him, one wing beneath him acting as a cushion.

"That doesn't hurt you, does it?" he asked worriedly.

"No. It's fine," Cas assured him, rolling over to face him. The other wing, the one they weren't laying on, moved over Dean, blocking the cold rain drops and settling a peaceful warmth over him. Dean scooted closer to the angel, burying his face into Cas's neck so that his lips rested against his collar bone. He could pretend for a few minutes that the rest of the world wasn't out there. Here, safe in Castiel's embrace, he could forget about Dick, about Sam and his broken mind, about Bobby. For a few minutes, Cas's wings blocked it all out and kept him safe... safe and loved. His mom always did say that angel's were watching over him.


End file.
